Plant Cycle
by snarechan
Summary: Demyx and Marluxia have a short discussion on gardening.


Plant Cycle

By Snare-chan

**Pairings**: None**  
Ratings**: K+  
**Category(ies)**: General  
**Warning(s)**: Slight spoilers for Chain of Memories  
**Status**: One-shot, complete  
**Summary**: Demyx and Marluxia have a short discussion on gardening.

**Notes**: One of those stories inspired back from when Days had just hit American shores. Some parts of this were from another story I'd planned, but it hadn't panned out, so I'm excited to get to use a couple concepts! I don't like wasting good ideas if I can help it.

**Disclaimer**: I dun own Kingdom Hearts; wish I did like everyone else. They should put KH in stock, then I'd buy it all!

* * *

The lounge was rather empty that day, scarcely anyone present. Saïx himself was off somewhere, his usual post devoid of his looming company. This was good news for Demyx, who had snuck through the castle to avoid that very person. Finding his superior gone made his task of procrastination easier, because he couldn't very well do a mission if no one was there to assign it.

He flopped back on the couch next to Marluxia, who was pruning a shriveled and blackened plant. It was so long gone, Demyx couldn't identify whether it was a single flower, a bush, a baby tree…it was basically a twig with tiny, crunchy leaves. Number IX didn't comprehend why Marluxia was spending such care to snip the ugly thing down more than it already was. What a waste of effort!

"Maybe…you should water that," Demyx offered weakly. "Or is it a cactus? Maybe it needs more sun; it is really dark on our world."

Marluxia elegantly inclined his head in the other's direction, and though nothing about his expression altered, an air of critical calculation surrounded him. The musician was accustomed to that, however; everything about Number XI was poised and extreme.

"It will be fine," he said, cutting off a tiny piece with a flick of his wrist.

Demyx examined it again, not sure he understood his statement. The plant didn't look healthier the nearer he got.

"I dunno, man. Looks like your green thumb needs a little work," Demyx declared, and then quickly added, "No offense."

Number XI snorted softly, a hint of a smirk curling before fading away to not be seen again as he stated, "My talents are fine. It is you who are unable to see its _potential_."

He tried – even going so far as to poke it – but there wasn't anything to analyze.

"Ooookay…I see a brown stick. And, um, that could be useful for…a fire? That's potential!"

That earned him a scandalized expression, Marluxia's hand tightening on the pot that contained the plant and discretely dragging it closer to his side.

His tone remained neutral despite his actions as he told him, "That's not precisely what I meant. With the right incentive…"

Using his free hand, he lifted a gloved thumb to his lips and _bit_, slicing directly past the material and splitting the skin underneath. Placing it over the plant, a frenzy of black smoke – a wild, thin tendril that danced and swirled – wrapped around it.

And then the plant _shivered_, as if it were sentient, and its color returned. A light green hue traveled from top to bottom, filling the entire stem. Leaves unfurled, long and slender, with sharp barbs at the tips. A single flower bloomed, spreading until a puff appeared to reveal a thousand gradient shades of purple. It was a thistle.

"…it can prove itself to be worthwhile," Marluxia finished, dropping his hand back into his lap and admiring his work.

"_That_ was so cool!" Demyx cheered, applauding. "Can you do it again?"

A hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder, the tips of its fingers digging deceptively sharply through his coat. The musician jumped and yelped, the gesture surprising him, but the hold was firm and kept him in place.

"You have a mission, Number IX," Saïx informed him, ignoring the freak-out. "There is evidence that suggests a world at these coordinates. Go and perform reconnaissance on it, then report back immediately."

He gave him a note card with the latitude and longitude in precise handwriting on it. The idea to start detailing his missions this way was Zexion's idea – he figured if he was able to read what he was supposed to be doing at any point during his excursions, then maybe it would encourage him to reach his objective faster. In the famous words of Xigbar: "As if."

"Keep on target," Saïx advised, seeming to read his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah. You bet," he said, saluting.

He turned to bid Marluxia farewell, but he had already left. The pot with his flower in it had remained, though, and it did for quite a time after. Whenever Demyx came back from a task or relaxed in the lounge, he would return to admiring it.

But its beauty didn't last – a couple of days after everyone left for Castle Oblivion, it withered away into nothing, leaving an empty pot with no one to care for it.

-Fin-


End file.
